


Are you fucking insane?

by Then Forgotten (Remembered)



Series: Four Word Prompts [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-05-15 07:13:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5776423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remembered/pseuds/Then%20Forgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The words branded on Steve's skin offer no comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the four word fic prompts found [here](http://kilgravesjessica.tumblr.com/post/136629548151/four-word-prompts-please-come-with-me)

Steve was 10 when his words showed up. It happened in the middle of the night. The pain was sharp and sudden, over before he had finished sitting up in bed. All that lingered was a tender warmth over his ribs. Steve spread his fingers out over the bony ridges of his ribcage and felt his breath rattle around in his weak lungs. Slowly he trailed his hand down to pull at the hem of his thin shirt, lifting the fabric up until the words slipped into view.

_“Are you fucking insane?!”_

Well. Steve felt heat rise to his cheeks. All he could think was, _I can’t believe I have a swear on me._

He didn’t sleep well that night.

In the morning when he’d shown the mark to his mother she’d slapped her hand over his eyes, as if doing so could somehow keep him from seeing a word that was now forever on his skin.

\---

He knew how this was supposed to go. Everyone grew up hearing about soul mates, but Steve knew the stories didn’t always turn out happy. His father was always drinking, and he made Steve’s mother cry all the time. Steve wasn’t allowed to ask about his father’s words, but that didn’t stop him much. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, he reasoned. His mother had shown him her words the first time she explained soul mates to him. Her smile had been blinding as she rolled up her sleeve and showed him the familiar cramped slopes of his father’s writing:

“Joseph Rogers, but call me Joe.”

So Steve kept asking. And asking. Always asking. Until one night his father had enough. He’d thrown an empty bottle against the wall and stormed out of the house, but not before shoving Steve against the wall.

“Steve, come here.” His mother was standing in front of him. She reached down to lift him off the floor. He staggered to his feet, head swimming, and realized he didn’t even remember falling. “I need to let you know something. Your father…he doesn’t have any words.”

“But…you’re married.” He fought to keep his voice even. “And you have words.”

“I know sweetie.” His mother reached out to cup his face. Her thumb cleared the tears from his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he’d started to cry. “Not everyone gets a soul mate.”

“But…you have a soul mate. You told me dad _was_ your soul mate!”

“He is.” Steve’s mother pulled him into a tight hug. “But I’m not his.”

Steve didn’t mention his words to anyone after that night.

\---

He should have known better than to wear his nice clothes down to the theater. But movies were special, so he liked to show them proper amount of respect. It took him weeks to save up enough money for a ticket, but he’d pay any price to escape the streets of Hell’s Kitchen and feel far away from the problems facing him at home.

So here he was, getting into it with another bully in the alleyway behind the theater. He’d noticed this pill chatting up a girl on his way out, but the way he crowded into her space made him hesitate. Then he saw her try and push the greaseball away and before he knew it he had spun the guy around and shoved him away from the girl. She’d cast him a worried glance before running off. Everyone always looked at him like that when they saw him pick a fight.

After getting a few solid hits in the face even Steve had to admit that they were right to worry.  He felt blood drip down from his lip onto the collar of his shirt. Yeah…his mom was not going to be happy. He knew she was tired of fighting to get the blood stains out of his good shirts.

One of his eyes was already swollen shut, and the force of that last punch had left a ringing in his ears, so he felt the other boy get thrown from him more than he saw it happen. Steve heard punches landing hard against bone, feet running away, and then a warm hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him to his feet.

“ _Are you fucking insane_?!”

Steve’s good eye opened wide. In front of him stood a tall gangly fella about his age. He looked messed up too, but Steve knew he looked much worse.

Of course, this is how his soul mate would see him for the first time, bloody from losing a fight and on the verge of having an asthma attack.

“Seriously, what is wrong with you?” The stranger gave him an appraising look before shaking his head and laughing. The sound made Steve blush.

“I don’t like bullies.” He watched the man’s face carefully, but nothing seemed to change. “I’m Steve, by the way. Steve Rodgers.”

“Call me Bucky.”

Steve nodded and looked away from Bucky’s face. He couldn’t process everything that had just happened. Bucky had said the words. _His_ words. He blushed brighter and felt his stomach drop at the thought. His soul mate was a _man._ But then why hadn’t—

“Hey Steve, ya comin?” Bucky was already out of the alley. Steve sprinted forward to join up with him and pushed his worried thoughts to the back of his mind. He’d found his soul mate and that thought alone was enough to warm him inside and out.

\---

Steve was pretty sure Bucky didn’t have words. He had never actually asked to see them—that was impolite. They were personal. He’d heard plenty of stories of people refusing to let anyone see the words before they found their soul mate. Steve thought that was a little impractical, but he did see the merit. He needed to keep Bucky from seeing them for as long as possible. Forever, hopefully.

But that was getting to be a lot harder now and days. They were inseparable. Ever since his mom died Bucky had taken on the role of mother hen. Not that Steve needed it. He had a job, and his own place, and on a good week he could scrounge up the dough to buy enough groceries to get him through till his next pay day.

But, more often than not, Bucky would barge in with what Steve suspected where his only groceries and insist that Steve cook dinner. He said it was because Steve was the better cook, but he’d burnt one to many slices of bread to believe that story for a minute.

If he wasn’t at Steve’s house, Bucky was out dancing. He loved the game of winning dames over and winding them up. The girls never lingered too long, they knew Bucky wasn’t it for them, but Bucky always seemed to have a story to tell that would make Steve blush up to his ears as it broke another small piece off his heart.

But that wasn’t the reason Steve thought Bucky didn’t have words. He wasn’t vain enough to think that Bucky didn’t have someone else out there just because Bucky was the one for him. Steve knew Bucky didn’t have words because of the way he never talked about soul mates at all. The only time they’d ever spoken about it was when a first meeting happened right in front of their face.

A woman had been about to cross the street when a car came barreling around a corner. A man walking past shot out his hand and pulled her back to safety, but the motion caused them both to hit the pavement hard. Bucky and Steve ran across the road to offer their help, but stopped short when the woman began to yell.

“Hey mister, you just ruined my dress!” The man shot her a glare.

“A thank you would have been nice. I did just save your life.”

They froze, practically in sync, before the woman’s shoulders began to shake. The man pulled her in close, checking her face for tears, but she was shaking with barely restrained laughter that broke loose as soon as he tipped up her face.

“Oh geez.” The man tucked her head into the crook of his neck and began laughing too.

Bucky rolled his eyes and began walking back the way they came.

“Aw, Buck, c’mon. That was sweet!” Steve fell into step beside his friend and grinned up at him.

“Honestly I just feel sorry for the guy.” Bucky shrugged. “She seemed pretty stuck up. All she cared about was the dress.”

“Really Buck? They just found out that they’re soul mates! Aren’t you a little happy for them?”

Bucky just shrugged.

“Hey Steve, how do you feel about taking some girls dancing?”

And Steve’s heart broke again.

\---

When the war comes Bucky leaves. For weeks they had waited for his number to come up. Bucky spent his time with a different gal every few days. Steve spent his time at a different enlistment building every just as often. But in the end Bucky left, and Steve felt a phantom pain emanating from the letters on his chest.

\---

The words are the only thing about him that stay the same after the Super Soldier Serum. His life as Captain America moves so fast that he sometimes forgets that the words are there at all. But when he hears that Bucky is dead or worse he feels like the words are a fresh brand on his skin.

He fights hard to get to Bucky. The words that he has spent so long ignoring bounce around in his head as he trudges though enemy territory in search of a base he isn’t sure is there. But he knows Bucky is alive. If he was dead Steve would know.

Once he makes it onto the base Steve feels small again, like that sickly kid from Brooklyn who stood in an alley and told punks to back off. But the men of the 107th need him to beat down the bully, so he fights.

\---

The lab terrifies Steve. Sinister instruments glimmer in the dim lighting. And then he hears the soft heaves of pained breathing and he can taste the acrid fear in his mouth as he calls out.

“Buck? Bucky?”

He hears another noise and runs forward.

His soulmate is splayed out on a gurney. His chest is laid bare, torso covered in bruises, but nothing is bleeding or broken. Steve nearly sobs with relief.

“Buck! God, we’ve got to get you out of here.” Steve steps forward to grab his friend and suddenly he sees a familiar looping script on Bucky’s chest.

_I don’t like bullies._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your kudos and comments! I'm sorry for the wait, but this most recently trailer for Captain America: Civil War gave me enough inspiration to finish this chapter up. I hope you like it!

James Buchanan Barnes was not in love with Steve Rogers. 

 

He repeated the words in his head endlessly. 

 

He was  _not_ in love with Steve Rogers. 

 

After all, the kid was a little shit. Sure, he had a sweet smile and those big baby blues, but damn it if he didn't know just how to work someone over with that innocence. He'd never take advantage of anyone, or cause any harm. No, he only used his charm to get  _Bucky_ in trouble. They'd be in church, crowded into the corner of the back row, and if they got caught talking Steve would lower his eyes solemnly while  _Bucky_ got shhh'd harshly by the woman in the pew in front of them. It happened every Sunday, regardless of the fact that Steve was the one who started the conversation every time. 

 

Every time they got into a scrape, Steve could just duck his head, lift his blue eyes and give a small, apologetic smile and be forgiven. 

 

Bucky tried it once, and he got slapped in the face. 

 

Like he said, Steve Rogers was a little shit. 

And Bucky was not in love, okay? 

 

He rubbed his hand over his chest, fingers sliding over his words absentmindedly while he and Steve walked back from church. He felt Steve's eyes dip down to trace the motion before flicking back up to meet his gaze again. Bucky dropped his hand and shoved his fists into this pockets. Every time Steve caught him doing that he'd get hit with a jolt of fear. He'd taken extra care to make sure Steve would never see his words, but sometimes his eyes would catch and Bucky could swear he saw right through him to the truth. 

But Bucky couldn't love Steve Rogers. Because he loved women. He loved  _everything_ about women. Their soft smiles, lilting voices, smooth curves. He loved the taste of a woman's kiss on his mouth and the heat of a woman in his arms. 

Loving Steve Rogers wouldn't change that. 

Nevermind the fact that when Steve smiled wide Bucky felt a warm inside himself unfold. Or that when he'd hold his friend tight to fight off the chill in his crappy apartment during the deepest winter nights his arms felt like they were holding onto a piece of himself. And, yes, on more than one occasion he'd dreamed of what it might be like to smother Steve's sly smile with a kiss, but he always jolted awake, afraid. 

 

Because Bucky did not love Steve. 

 

He couldn't. 

 

Steve was  _good_. And Bucky...

Well. Bucky was the kind of guy who'd hide from his soulmate in the arms of dame after dame. 

 

___

 

Bucky wakes to the feeling of large, strong hands slipping something soft and heavy around his shoulders. After weeks in captivity being touched at all strikes fear in him. He knows pain will soon follow so Bucky wrenches himself away from his captor. He throws a desperate punch--why are his hands free? His knuckles collide with the side of someone's face. 

"Oof. Bucky, it's me! It's Steve." Bucky blinks as his vision tries to focus in the dim lighting. Sure enough the face before him belongs to skinny Steve Rogers, the most innocent asshole in Brooklyn. But he's tall, too tall, and built of corded muscle where softer limbs used to live. 

"Steve? I thought you were shorter." 

The grin that greets him is blinding. Steve steps into his side, looping Bucky's arm around his shoulder, and guides his friend to safety. 

 

\---

A few hours into their trek back to camp Bucky realizes he's wearing a leather jacket too large and too new to belong to anyone else but Steve. There is no shirt on underneath. _His words. Steve had to have seen his words._  A sudden rush of fear makes him stumble, but Steve is there by his side to right him once again. 

\---

 

Once they make it back Steve is pulled away. Bucky tries really, really hard not to hold a grudge against Agent Carter for the look she gives Steve when she sees him. But as they speak he can't get the image of her lips on his out of his mind and it makes jealousy stew in his gut. The feeling is stronger now than when he'd set up Steve with the occasional dame back in Brooklyn. Bucky fights hard to tell himself it isn't different now that Steve knows. If Steve knows.  _He has to know._

So Bucky paces in front of Steve's cot, waiting for him to return. 

 

"Buck, hey--" Before he can finish Bucky launches himself across the space between them and kisses Steve hard on the mouth. Bucky was never one to do things in half measures. Steve freezes beneath him, and when he doesn't respond Bucky steps back. He fights to keep his face neutral as he takes in the shocked face before him. He scrutinizes his friend, noting the color rising in his cheeks and the twitch in his lips that hints at a smile. 

 

"I just figured, no point in hiding it anymore." Bucky mutters, breaking the silence. 

 

"Yeah, about that." Steve moves to sit down, his back against the cot. He pats the ground next to him and Bucky stumbles to take a seat. "What the hell, Buck?" Bucky shrugs in response. Steve shoves him, his new found strength sending Bucky skidding a few inches away. 

 

"Okay, God." Bucky rubs the tender spot on his arm and gives his friend a critical look. "I didn't know what to do." 

 

"You didn't know what to do." Steve narrows his eyes and Bucky can tell he's about to get shoved again. "For years. We lived together  _for years_ and you never thought to tell me? Jesus Buck. Can you even understand how that felt?" 

 

"You were too good for me, Steve. God, I wanted to tell you. But I couldn't...couldn't feel that way about you." Bucky watches as his friend mentally turns the words over in his head, finding their meaning as he looks through memories of their friendship.

Once he's done Steve looks straight ahead and asks, "And how do you feel about me now?" 

Bucky laughs humorlessly. "I feel like your super-serum just made this problem bigger too." Because now Steve is an icon, and Bucky can feel the weight of it around them both. Their moment alone in this tent is a fluke. Everyone needs Steve to be Captain America. And Captain America falls for the beautiful British agent, not the boy from Brooklyn. 

Bucky is lost in thought when Steve leans over kisses him softly, hesitantly, as if he's waiting for Bucky to answer. He presses back into the kiss, pouring his worries and fears into the touch, and Steve is there to take them in. In that moment Bucky knows they'll find their way though this together. 

 

\--- 

 

The media knows Captain America is a wholesome, kind, stalwart hero on the front lines, fighting for freedom. 

 

Agent Carter knows Captain America is a sweet boy from Brooklyn out to do what's right. 

 

The Howling Commandos know that Captain America is a born leader, fearless and true in the face of danger. 

 

James Buchanan Barnes knows Steve Rogers is a little shit that hides behind a shy grin and a shield while everyone thinks  _Bucky_ is the trouble maker. Steve Rogers steals kisses and makes them late. Steve Rogers laughs with his head thrown back and eyes shut tight. Steve Rogers loves Bucky, and only Bucky knows. 

 

These are the last things Bucky thinks as he falls from a train onto a snowy mountainside. 

 

He loves Steve Rogers. And as blackness swims over his vision he hopes Steve knows too. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the end, so don't worry! 
> 
> Your kudos and comments give me life. Please leave more so I know what you think! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, I write short chapters.

Steve can’t hold it together.

 

He sits down in the burned rubble of a bar and drinks down whatever he can find. He knows nothing will work, but something about the ritual helps him feel at least a little bit better. But then he remembers the surprised look on Bucky’s face as his hand slipped and he began to fall and Steve wants nothing more than to get blackout drunk.

 

Peggy comes to talk him down, her gaze penetrating even when it's apologetic. Something in her eyes helps Steve pull himself upright--just for a moment, but that moment is enough.

 

That’s how Steve gets by--moving from moment to moment. He finds that taking risks makes the moments fly by faster. Adrenaline helps speed his life along, so he becomes reckless. When asked, he’d say he acted in the name of freedom--that he's being a good soldier, using his power to help those who need to be protected. But when he is alone and his hand traces gently along the words on his chest he knows he is running selfishly toward death.

 

Peggy tries her best to talk him down, to postpone that death another day, but Captain America flies that ship into the ice anyway.

  


\----

 

Steve wakes up to a whole new world. The strangeness hits him in waves, which he realizes he should be grateful for. It would have been easy for it to overwhelm him otherwise. But the future is sad. He’ll be fixing dinner, or staring blankly out a window and then his world falls out from under him and he’s sent spinning over again. Little things tear the rug out from under him--the taste of food, the sunlight glinting off a car window--and he finds himself having to re-center again and again. The future is harsh and blinding--but Steve is starting to adjust. There is only one thing holding him back from embracing the world anew and looking toward the future.

 

His words are different.

 

It is one of the first things he noticed. At his first moment alone in the future Steve opts to take a shower and wash some of the strangeness off of his body. He pulls the plain white shirt over his head to find an unfamiliar phrase etched in black over his heart.

 

_Who the hell is Bucky?_

 

Steve sees those words for the first time and bile rushes up into his mouth. He runs to the toilet and retches, nothing but acid coming back up. His words had haunted him for what felt like ages--before Bucky, with Bucky, after Bucky. Now they are gone, and so is he. The final physical tie he had to Bucky, taken from him. And now Steve is left with the future utterance of a stranger callously asking about the person closest to his heart.

A stunned voice in the back of his head asks how this is possible. Out of all the countless soulmate stories he has heard nothing like this has ever happened. Words don’t leave, not ever. And they never change.

 

So why did his?

 

\---

 

The best part about the future is the easy access to miles and miles of information. Steve’s always been a bit of a masochist, so it doesn’t take long before he’s using Google to find out what the future thinks of him. It turns out Steve Rogers is something of an enigma, whereas Captain America has stayed the same over the years. Many people have speculated over the details of Steve’s personal life. Most people believe his soulmate was Peggy and that her late husband took that secret to the grave. A smaller group have guessed at Bucky being Steve’s soulmate, but the idea is usually met with considerable resistance--anything ranging from ‘there’s no way Captain America is gay’ to ‘Have you seen what Peggy Carter looked like in the day? No way Cap passed that up.’ He almost wants to set the record straight, the words on his chest silence him with their strange newness. With his words gone, no one could ever know the truth.

 

Steve learns that Bucky’s body was never found and the knowledge wounds him in a way his healing factor can’t fix.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: this chapter carries through the end of The Winter Soldier.

The Winter Soldier. That's what Natasha called him. A terror masked in shadow. A ghost. But this fight is in broad daylight, and Steve thinks that takes away part of his power. He's not a figure made of darkness and shadow. His body is twisting, arm glinting in the sun. That doesn't mean he's less terrifying. Steve can admit that this fight is one of the harder ones he's ever been in. Something about the way this man moves is unnerving. There is a stillness in his body that makes every jump startling. That coupled with his field-tested combat skill make him a difficult opponent. Even still, there is something unsettling about his face. Those eyes shine in sharp contrast to the black mask--almost a muzzle, playing up the mental image of an inhuman figure. It only draws more attention to those eyes that see straight through Steve to the part of himself that's scared. And he is smart enough to admit his fear, if only to himself.

The sound of that mask falling to the ground cuts through the ringing noise of the fight going on around them. Slowly Steve's eyes slide up to take in the face of his opponent. A sharp breath, ripped from his throat as if he had taken a sharp hit to his solar plexus. Suddenly he's transported back to a muggy day in Brooklyn, two boys splayed out under the shade in a desperate attempt to cool down. A younger, small Steve turns his smiling face to meet his friends' gaze.

"Bucky?"

The word leaves his mouth unwittingly. It can't be Bucky. No one found him. Even if he had somehow survived the fall, he should have died decades ago. But years of memory spring forward, flashing before his eyes, comparing his memory of Bucky to the man scowling in front of him. His Bucky was always smirking, walking around with a confident swagger in his steps, worlds away from the still, hard lines of the man on the bridge. But...He can't escape it. Beyond all reason he knows that the man standing in front of him is James Buchanan Barnes--Bucky. His Bucky.

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

His blood--once racing and adrenaline filled--turns cold and sluggish in his veins. A shiver shoots through him. _His words._ Those new words that plague him. He hears them from this man--his Bucky but not--and his heart breaks again. 

 

\--- 

Steve Rogers is a soldier, and a soldier pushes through. Bucky is alive and dead. His words are right and wrong. But there is still a mission. He sits with Fury--who is also different, but much the same--and figures out what has to be done. Steve is a solider, and a soldier keeps moving on. 

\--- 

The fight to get to the helicarrier is messier than Steve had hoped. He makes it, thanks to Sam--Falcon now. But Bucky is there, standing between Steve and the targeting array he needs to disrupt. He knows his mission--switch out the chips and save millions of lives. But Bucky is there and everything inside of him rears back at the thought of fighting someone he now knows is his friend--his  _soulm--_

 _No._ Steve thinks.  _Not now. I can't think of that right now._

 

"Please don't make me do this." 

They fight, but something in Steve is sure Bucky is holding back. He needs to believe that somewhere inside this new person is his old friend, still trying to protect him. Whether or not that's true Steve only fights to incapacitate, never to kill. His mind shuts down at the thought of having to end Bucky's life. He knows millions of lives are on the line, but he doesn't know if he'd be able to end Bucky regardless and the weight of that decision is almost enough to send him crashing to the ground. 

He has Bucky pinned, he can feel him fight for every breath. He's going limp in Steve's arms and he hates the feeling so much he yells out, all his frustration and sadness flooding from his mouth. The chip falls from Bucky's hand and Steve lets go, eager to shake the memory of Bucky's limp form from his limbs. 

He climbs. Up and up, toward the array and towards his goal. A shot rings out, stopping him momentarily. A sharp pain, a searing burn. Somehow he keeps moving. The next shot lands, compounding pain upon pain, but he has to follow through. His hands are on the chip, pulling it from his pouch, when the third bullet hits, so much more painful than the others. He knows it's bad, feels the blood leaving his body. He is moving on a soldiers instinct. All the can think is  _'better me than him. better me than him.'_

Steve falls to his knees, exhaustion hitting him, but then he sees Bucky, hears him scream as the debris pin him down, and Steve keeps moving. He stops at Bucky's side, the deafening sound of metal crashing into metal making his head buzz uncomfortably. Bucky's eyes are wild when they meet his. He's struggling to escape. Steve lifts with all the strength he has and Bucky screams as he fights to pull free. It's just enough, barely enough, and Bucky crawls out of the way just as Steve's arms give out. 

They're fighting again, only Steve can't do it. He's tired, and sad, and through all the pain he feels the weight of the words on his chest-they echo over the noise of buildings crumbling around him and they make him so, so tired. Bucky hits him over and over again, he feels the bruises bloom across his face as his skin splits open and still he doesn't fight. 

"Finish it, 'cause I'm with you till the end of the line." 

Through the haze of pain he sees Bucky's eyes--wide and full of a moment of recognition--and his metal fist stopped in mid-air. 

And then they're falling. 

Again, Bucky falls. 

\---- 

Steve feels it when his back hits the water--it's a sharp pain, knocking the air from his lungs. Water rushes in to fill it's place as he gets dragged further and further down. 

\----

He wakes up in a hospital, Sam by his side, and knows deep within himself that Bucky saved him. He lifts his hand to rub at his chest and promises to find his soulmate once again. 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Man, you need to take a break.” Sam says one night after a particularly rough day. They’ve been searching for Bucky for weeks on end.

 

“You know I can’t do that.” Steve is slumped down in the vinyl seat of a roadside diner. They’ve been following a series of weak leads for days, only resting when Sam admits that he can’t keep going. They’re stopping to eat because it’s been too long since Sam has had a meal that requires utensils and the signs for the diner advertise the best apple pie in the state.

 

“You should get the pie,” Sam replies, deeply tired at the thought of having the same conversation again with Steve where Sam argues from reason and Steve from emotion. It’s a recipe for friction in their already strained relationship. Sam signed on for the hunt for Bucky because he believed in Captain America, but this trip has been about Steve Rogers proving something to himself and Sam can’t help him find what he’s looking for. Not really.

 

“I think I’ll stick with the breakfast platter, actually.” Steve taps the menu on the table before looking around for their server. Suddenly he tenses, shoulders raised high and eyes wide in disbelief. Sam raises his eyebrows, awaiting an explanation. After a moment he follows Steve’s line of sight toward a booth at the very back of the diner. A man is sits facing the room, baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.

 

“Is that---”

 

Steve throws himself from the booth and sprints across the diner to where the man is seated, stopping just short of the table. He stands stiffly in front of the booth, hands twitching at his side, when the man gestures for Steve to take a seat. Steve crowds in close to the other man-- _to Bucky_ \--and begins whispering quickly.

 

“What can I get you, darlin?” Sam jumps in his seat, embarrassed that the smiling waitress in front of him could sneak up on him so easily.

 

“Two breakfast platters,” he replies, eyes drifting toward the booth where Steve is seated before adding, “and two slices of apple pie, please.”

 

“Sure thing, sweetie,” the waitress says with a wink and a smile.

 

Sam looks back at his friend to assess the situation. Bucky whispers two words for every ten from Steve’s mouth. He can’t see Steve’s face, and Bucky’s face is expressionless and cast in shadow. Sam sips from his mug and watches as the constant tension of the past few weeks begins to fade.

 

Steve tenses and begins to gesture wildly with his hands. Bucky reaches out to place a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve hangs his head and stands slowly. Bucky moves past him, leaving a twenty on the table, and walks out of the diner without a backward glance. Sam’s gaze snaps back to Steve. He is standing still, shaking, head tilted down.

Their waitress returns and sets their plates down without a word. Sam can’t imagine what this situation looks like to everyone else, but they seem to sense the gravity without ever hearing a word. Their food has gone cold by the time Steve sits down at the table.

 

“Steve?” Sam watches cautiously as Steve slices into his piece of pie.

 

“Don’t.” He bites his fork viciously. Sam sighs and picks up his fork to start in on his pie.

 

\----

Steve knows the Avengers aren’t perfect, but he at least thought they were better than this.

 

The atmosphere in Avenger’s Tower is crackling with antipathy over the Superhero Registration Act and Steve has to admit that he is part of the problem.

 

“I can’t believe that Tony thinks this is okay!” He’s pacing in his room. Sam’s sitting in front of him with one earphone in, half listening to Steve’s now familiar rant.

 

“People don’t always agree on everything, Cap.”

 

“That’s fine when you’re arguing over music or movies, but we’re talking about the future of a country--the future of _the world_. How can he not see--?”

 

Before Sam can reply their phones chirp, alerting them of another crisis unfolding.

 

“This one doesn’t look too bad,” Sam says. An amateur mad scientist told a friend he’d been trying to recreate the super soldier serum. The mission would be simple--intimidation and prevention, no active fighting. “Think I can take it on my own?”

 

“Yeah, sure.” Steve nods distractedly. “I’ll have my comms on if you need any help.”

 

“Alright,” Sam rolls to his feet and pulls his other earphone out with a grin. “I’ll see you around Cap.”

 

Steve slumps down to sit at his desk. Sketchbooks and pencils are spread out in front of him haphazardly and he begins to draw distractedly. He doesn’t notice that he’s sketching out a metal arm until--

 

“That actually looks pretty accurate.” The voice comes from far too close to Steve’s ear. On reflex he strikes out only to have his arm caught mid-motion.

 

“Bucky?” Steve’s arm is held in a grip so tight it has him pinned motionless.

 

“Hey Stevie.” Bucky releases him with a pat to the back before he sits down on Steve’s bed.

“You said...you needed time,” Steve whispers to himself. It's been months, but from the way it sounded in the diner Bucky's barely been gone at all.

 

“Yeah, thanks for giving that to me.” Bucky wipes his palms on the tops of his jeans. “But I think I’m ready now, Stevie.”

 

“Ready for what?” He blinks and forces his lungs to keep functioning normally.

 

“Ready to tell you that I’ll never be James Buchanan Barnes again.” Steve’s heart drops, his stomach turns. “But I’ll never be the Winter Soldier again either.”

 

“Of course not Bucky, you never have to hurt anyone ever again. I won’t let them take you again, not ever.”

 

“I know Steve.” Bucky fixes him with a soft look that Steve knows all too well. “But you need to understand that I’ll never be the guy you met all those years ago in Brooklyn. He’s gone….”

 

“I know.” Steve nods solemnly.

 

“Good. ‘Cause I’d like to try and give this a shot, whatever this is between us.” He rubs at his chest lightly and Steve fights back a lump in his throat.

 

“Before you say anything else, I need you to know something.”

 

“What?” Bucky asks.

 

“Just...here--” Steve pulls off his black henley, a wave of self-consciousness washing over him before he opens his eyes to see Bucky staring wide-eyed at his words.

 

_Who the hell is Bucky?_

 

“I said that to you, on the bridge.” Steve nods, surprised that he'd remembered at all. “But I remember, it’s one of the things I remember clearly, your old words. They were--”

 

“I know, Buck. And I don’t know why these changed. But they’re still yours.” Steve steps closer tentatively and hopes that Bucky hears the unspoken _I’m still yours too._

 

“So I’m really not the same guy that you knew before,” Bucky scoffs.

 

“Yeah, I guess not.”

 

The sit in silence for a moment, both soaking up the feeling of simply being together again, before Bucky stands and pulls Steve to his feet.

 

“You should see this too.” Bucky unbuttons his plaid shirt, revealing an expanse of scarred and mottled flesh. Where Bucky’s words once were there was a rough raised patch of scarring. Steve’s hackles rise as his blood runs cold.

 

“What--how--your _words_ , they’re--”

 

“They took everything from me, Stevie. Even my words.” Bucky reaches down to grab Steve’s hands. “But I think that if I still had them, they’d be different too. We’re not the same people at all since the day we met. But I think we’re similar enough to have some matching pieces together.”

 

Steve nods, willing his body to keep a steady pulse as his eyes roam over Bucky’s chest.

 

“You can’t keep staring at me like that Stevie, a guy will start to get ideas.” Bucky’s tone is playful as he waggles his eyebrows at Steve suggestively. A hot blush rushes over Steve’s cheeks, but his eyes can’t help but continue their path.

 

“Let me give you something else to think about,” Bucky whispers before leaning in close, pressing his lips against Steve’s before he can register the action. The kiss is nothing like he remembers--delicate and searching and so, _so good._ Steve raises his arms to wrap around Bucky and bring him close to his chest. They’re standing like that, trading soft careful kisses, when Sam bursts back into the room.

 

“You’ll never believe what happe-- _WOAH!”_ Sam stops short a few steps into the room. Steve pulls away, eyes glazed over, to look at Sam in confusion. Bucky keeps kissing along Steve’s face, chin, neck.

 

“What happened?” Steve’s voice is _wrecked_.

 

“Nevermind. I’ll tell you later. Or never.” Sam’s eyes are wide as he backs out of the room, shutting the door with a snap.

 

“Should we worry about that?” Bucky mumbles into the junction of Steve’s neck and shoulder.

 

“Later,” Steve thinks about all the things weighing on them both and says, “we can think about all that later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it! 
> 
> I hope you guys liked it. I tried to tie it all up without anything really being neat because I think that is how Steve and Bucky's relationship just is. All your kudos and comments have carried me through to finish this thing. Thank you for all your support. 
> 
> <3 
> 
> ETA: written before the events of Captain America: Civil War


End file.
